


A Feeling Of Limbo

by hummingrightalong



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Edgeplay, Impact Play, Kinktober 2019, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-16 16:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong
Summary: Tyrelliot bondage scene, all smut.





	A Feeling Of Limbo

In one way or another, his entire life had been about control. His wife had done this wrong, giving him everything when really she had the control in her hands the entire time. She dominated him everywhere, even in the bedroom, even when he tied her down, she was calling the shots. It put him off balance, made him fly off the handle at the smallest deviation from perfection. 

Elliot hated seeing him like that, and after doing some reading, and studying Tyrell’s reactions in bed, he knew exactly what he should do. 

They hadn’t started out slow, but Tyrell could stop him anytime. He never wanted to.

Today, he’d let him off to work with a remote control vibrator up his ass. He’d text him, insist he find a place alone and switch it on. He didn’t need to be there, to here Tyrell’s breathing or see his face to know just when to tell him he could play with himself, and when he had to stop. So close, all day nearly there and the little shit knew exactly when to stop him. 

He took orders well enough, and that’s all Elliot really had to say on the matter. A small reward and the executive would mind the rules. The hacker had been edging him for days now. No one would ever believe how much it turned Tyrell on, just to be good, not to disappoint Elliot by breaking the rules. No one would believe he’d relinquish this much control.

Every conference call, every email, he conducted from his desk. Desperately aching to get off, begging Elliot in text messages and voicemails. “I’ve had enough, I’m leaving at lunch.” He sent halfway through the day.

His boyfriend didn’t reply, at least not in a call. All communication stopped. He knew better, watched the clock through lunch and thought of staying through the rest of the day, he’d been told to this morning. Rebel and there would be consequences. 

Almost making it, he clocks out just 90 minutes early. Not too atypical, practically not breaking the rules at all. It was a slow day.

Elliot would take no excuses, and he knew that on the ride home. He could turn around now, but then he’d never know what that brilliant mind had thought up as punishment.

Not to be disappointed, when he gets home Elliot doesn’t say a word. Smirking, laying a kiss on his cheek, he leads him to the spare bedroom; this they’d reserved for playing out a scene when Tyrell needed it. It was healthy to keep their primary bedroom separate from this, Elliot had decided. 

He’s told to strip naked before he enters the room, and does so blindfolded. He feels Elliot leading him through, the soft touch of his boyfriend checking his pulse before he asks, “what’s your color baby?”

The colors were just as good a gauge as a safe word. They had to trust one another, and so Tyrell answers truthfully. “Green.”

Elliot doesn’t speak must after that. Tyrell allowing his back to be turned to something rigid but padded, soft cuffs around each wrist as his arms are raised into place. Elliot palms the blond’s aching dick, the sensation a bit of a shock. If he tries he can hear him moving around the room, but every little touch sends shivers up his spine and makes his cock twitch. 

“Please?” The hand moves away. His legs are forced apart, ankles strapped into the St. Andrew’s Cross. He briefly wonders when the hell his boyfriend acquired one of these. For all he knows, he built it himself. Never underestimate what an Alderson is capable of if they put their mind to it. 

Elliot runs a flogger up the back of his thighs, his ass. Then there’s nothing for several agonizing seconds. It feels like centuries he doesn’t hear anything or anyone move around the room. 

Then a sharp sting on the back of his thigh. Another. At first the timing is consistent, he knows exactly when to expect a strike. It’s when it changes, when the count is off, that he lets out a little yelp. 

Everything stops. “What’s your color baby?” Elliot doesn’t push one way or another. 

Hearing something drop to the ground, Tyrell feels the butt plug vibrating right against his prostate. Elliot closes the distance, palms his cock again. “Fuck...green!” The blond cries out into the silence. “Please.” No word again, but Elliot jerks him off, leaving the vibrator on, and he’s so damn close, lost in the sensation. This moment, right here, is when the entire world and all his responsibilities drop away. The trust had to be built, but it was there, and he knew he could be brought to his limits, that his lover could erase everything but the pleasure and pain.

Elliot pulls the blindfold away, Tyrell looks into his eyes while the other squeezes slightly at the height of each stroke. “Come.”

Like the man’s voice has a direct line to his cock, it obeys. The orgasm rocks him, release finally after days, and his knees are weak as Elliot removes the straps. Someone he supports Tyrell’s larger frame as he helps him to a couch in the corner of the room. This is how most of the scenes ended, Tyrell too zapped of energy to make it to their bedroom. He’s half conscious before he’s laid down, freed of the plug. Elliot smooths back his hair, kissing him chastely on the lips while cleaning up. 

Tyrell reaches out when he’s done, and Elliot settles in next to him. The blond will nap awhile, be rejuvenated mentally and physically afterwards.


End file.
